


Which One of Us Is Really The Monster? (Season Ten)

by DeanGirl2Y5



Series: DeanGirl2Y5's Seasons of Supernatural [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Bears The Mark of Cain, Dean Has Nightmares, Demon Dean, Demon Dean Winchester, Episode: s10e01 Black, F/M, Karaoke, Musicals, POV Dean Winchester, POV Second Person, Post-Episode: s10e18 Book of the Damned, Season/Series 10, Season/Series 10 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-21 14:27:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3695765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanGirl2Y5/pseuds/DeanGirl2Y5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(This is a series of one-shots from Season Ten of Supernatural. With some original fics thrown in. Story title is a line from 10x03 "Soul Survivor.")</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Poison

It had been weeks since the two of them left the bunker in the rearview mirror.

Since then, Aline had taken to wearing 3-inch high-heeled laced boots that stopped a little before her knees, a black jacket instead of the one Dean had given her after her mom’s old jacket had been torn apart on that werewolf hunt, and different t-shirts that were often low enough to see her DW scar, which she showed off with pride. She had stopped putting her hair up and instead kept it down in different styles. To say she looked hot as Hell would be an understatement, at least in Dean’s opinion. Then again, Dean thought she looked hot as Hell in anything _and_ nothing at all.

Dean, on the other hand, kept a majority of his outfit the same, but he styled his hair in a way that made Aline drool.

They had been around different places, raising hell. Like strip clubs (seeing Dean laying his hands on the strippers made her growl. When Aline had done the same thing with male strippers in retaliation, Dean dragged her back to the Impala and showed her _exactly_ who she belonged to), bars, motels, hotels, convenient stores. You name it, they’ve been there, done that. Being free and doing whatever the hell they want without feeling the least bit guilty about it afterwards.

Raising hell, causing fights, fucking each other’s brains out.

That was the new business, and they both loved it.

They even called Sam once or twice right when they knew he found out they were alive. Most recently, they called him at two in the morning singing AC/DC’s “Back in Black” just to annoy the crap outta him. First time, they called him at four in the morning and sang “Stairway to Heaven.” On a Tuesday morning (at midnight to be exact), they sang “Heat of the Moment” to him, laughing at the end of the song and wishing him a very happy Tuesday.

They were both well aware that Sam was trying to find a cure. Truth be told, neither Dean nor Aline wanted to be cured. They liked the disease.

Right now, the two of them were at a bar that was currently having a karaoke night. The name of the place was The Black Spur. They were both sitting at a table, laughing while some poor drunk sap tried his hand at some pop song neither of them cared or knew about. She had left her jacket back in the Impala, her blue sequinned tank top visible.

“…and I just said, ‘Oops!’ Her face was like,” Dean stated, a look of fake shock on his face.

Aline laughed. “So, she couldn’t keep up with you?” she asked, taking a drink of her soda. It was something neither of them were that shocked about. Even as a demon, Aline kept to one percent of her human beliefs, lifelong sobriety being the main one.

Dean shook his head with a grin. “Not like you can, sweetheart.”

“Well, what do ya expect? No one really matches your stamina except for me.”

They both laughed again while Dean’s eyes flicked over to the stage. He picked up his beer.

“What do you say you have a go at that?” He motioned toward the stage with the neck of the bottle.

She looked over at the pop-singing drunk and smirked. “How bad should I be?”

The two of them knew she was a pretty awesome singer and could sing horribly if the situation called for it. Before, she only liked singing in front of people she knew. Being part of a musical, where she had to sing in front of who knew how many people, was something completely different. Even solos in musicals, like “This is the Moment,” she didn’t feel as nervous.

Settings like this, in a bar singing to a bunch of drunks as they watched her with one thing on their minds, had freaked her out.

Now, she didn’t even bat an eye at Dean’s proposition.

“On a scale of 1 to 10? Let’s go with…a 9. I want them to boo the crap outta you. Save that beautiful singing voice for later.”

The good kind of shiver ran up and down her spine. “That bad, huh?”

“Pretty much. Song choice is yours. We’ll do whatever you want tonight if you do, princess.”

Her smirk widened as a song came to mind, and she gave him a short, but chaste kiss on his lips. “Deal.” She jumped out of her seat and practically skipped over to the bar.

The bartender looked up at her with a flirty grin. He looked to be in his mid-twenties with short red hair, slightly tanned skin, and ice blue eyes. The guy was pretty hot, she’d have to give him that, but she was already spoken for.

“What can I get you, love?” he inquired, a slight British accent in his voice.

 _Bonus points for the accent,_ she thought. Out loud, she asked, “I was wondering if you could tell me if you had a list of songs that are on that karaoke machine.”

“Why? You got a specific song in mind? I’d love to hear if you can sing as beautifully as you look.”

He was flirting with her. You’d have to be blind not to notice the flirtatious looks he was sending her way. And she wasn’t blind. She guessed that he would probably be letting her know what time he was finished with his shift and slip her his number.

“Yes, I do. Have a specific song in mind, that is.”

“Tell me what song you got, and I’ll tell you if it’s on the machine. I’ve scrolled through the songs multiple times since we’ve gotten that thing.”

“'Poison’ by Alice Cooper.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her, but nodded nonetheless. “The song is on there. I didn’t really peg you as an Alice Cooper girl.”

“I’m just full of surprises, pretty boy.”

He nodded, placing his hand on hers. “You’re up after this guy, sweetcheeks. Name’s Jason, by the way, and I get off at 10.”

Called it. “I hate to burst your bubble, Jason, but I’m spoken for.” She removed her hand out from under his.

“By who?” A crestfallen look appeared on his face, and she had to hold back a grin.

She turned around and pointed right at Dean, who was sending a look which could only be described as murder toward the bartender. His eyes were dark with unadulterated rage and possessiveness which, before, had been fueled by the Mark on his arm.

“That’s the guy that has me as a girlfriend. Thank you so much for the help though, Jason.” She turned around and walked back to Dean, flicking her hair back at Jason. She could feel the look of disbelief coming from Jason.

Dean met her right in the middle. “I don’t like how that asshole was oggling you,” he growled, his eyes flashing black again before switching back to normal.

“I told him who’s girl I was.”

Dean looked away from her and at Jason, the muscles in his arms clenching as he glared at the bartender. “The fucker’s still checking you out!”

Aline grabbed Dean’s face, making him look at her once more. She knew what he wanted to do to the guy. “Kiss me then.”

He did exactly that. _There_ was the type of kiss they shared millions of times during those weeks away from Sam and the bunker. Only when they noticed someone else’s eyes were on the other person.

All tongue, teeth, and possessiveness.

She could even taste the sulfur on his tongue, and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t addicted to it beyond belief. Despite the fact that they were both demons now.

Her hands moved to the back of his neck, locking together. One of his hands stayed on her cheek while the other wrapped itself in her hair and gave it a tug, making her knees go weak.

They forced themselves to break it minutes later, knowing it wouldn’t take long for them to go at it while sharing a kiss like that. That didn’t stop her from letting out a small whimper only he could hear, making him chuckle.

“You’re up next anyway, sweetheart. We’ll finish back at the motel.”

She nodded as she walked up to the stage, feeling every drunks’ eyes on her while she fixed her hair so it looked almost the way it did before. Her hand grasped the microphone the moment the guitar intro played through the speaker. Mentally, she prepared herself for the best worst performance she was about to do before the words popped up on the screen.

“ _Your cruel device_  
Your blood like ice  
One look could kill  
My pain, your thrill,” she sang. She didn’t even cringe at how horribly out of tune she sounded.

Every single man had their eyes trained on her, even the ones who had dates, their jaws dropped to the floor. The only boos were coming from the jealous girls. They were also sending her venomous glares. If looks could kill (and if she was still human), she’d probably be dead a hundred times over, but looks like those only made her grin.

Dean was the only guy making any noise at that point, cheering for her. She continued singing, even shaking her hips a bit to the beat. She knew she was breaking one of the rules Dean set out, but she couldn’t help it. It was one of her favorites after all.

“ _I want to love you, but I better not touch (Don’t touch)_  
I want to hold you but my senses tell me to stop  
I want to kiss you but I want it too much (Too much)  
I want to taste you but your lips are venomous poison  
You’re poison runnin’ thru my veins  
You’re poison, I don’t want to break these chains

 _Your mouth, so hot_  
Your web, I’m caught  
Your skin, so wet  
Black lace on sweat.”

She headbanged and continued dancing, noticing Dean walking closer to the stage with his beer in hand. Aline risked a glance over at the bar and noticed Jason was watching her as well. Apparently, the kid had it bad for her, and he was frickin’ stupid if the way he was watching her as he dried those glasses was any indication. She mentally thanked whoever was listening that Dean didn’t see the way Jason was looking at her.

“ _I hear you calling and it’s needles and pins (And pins)_  
I want to hurt you just to hear you screaming my name  
Don’t want to touch you but you’re under my skin (Deep in)  
I want to kiss you but your lips are venomous poison  
You’re poison runnin’ thru my veins  
You’re poison, I don’t want to break these chains  
Poison.”

The moment Dean was close to the stage, within reaching distance, he put his hand on her ankle, making her gasp and Dean smirk wickedly up at her while licking his lips. Luckily for her, the mic wasn’t even close to her mouth at that point. His eyes were filled with lust and possessiveness as he ran his hand up her thighs like she was one of those strippers he’d put his hands on a while back.

Noticing her eyes were on him, he mouthed, “Mine,” while his eyes flashed black.

She grabbed onto the stool behind her to keep herself from falling onto the ground. Dammit, she wanted this song to be over.

The next thing she knew, Jason was walking toward Dean and yanked his hand away from her ankle.

“ _One look could kill  
My pain, your thrill_

 _I want to love you, but I better not touch (Don’t touch)_  
I want to hold you but my senses tell me to stop  
I want to kiss you but I want it too much (Too much)  
I want to taste you but your lips are venomous poison  
You’re poison runnin’ thru my veins  
You’re poison, I don’t want to break these chains

_Poison.”_

She saw Dean’s jaw clench as Jason shouted at him. What he was saying, she couldn’t really hear, but, if the look in Dean’s eyes was anything to go by, it wasn’t something Dean really wanted to hear. Especially from a guy who’d had his eyes on _his girl_ all night.

“ _I want to love you, but I better not touch (Don’t touch)_  
I want to hold you but my senses tell me to stop  
I want to kiss you but I want it too much (Too much)  
I want to taste you but your lips are venomous poison, yeah  
I don’t want to break these chains Poison, oh no  
Runnin’ deep inside my veins, Burnin’ deep inside my veins  
It’s poison I don’t want to break these chains.”

Dean punched him in the face, hard, then, after setting his beer on the stage, grabbed him by the collar and shoved him into the front of the stage, glaring dangerously at him as the song concluded.

“You better fucking listen to me, dumbass. I’m only saying this once. That girl on stage?” he snarled, pointing at Aline. “She’s _mine._ I can touch her whenever and however the hell I want. I’m the only one who even _gets_ to touch her. Got it?”

The Black Spur was completely silent, all eyes on Dean and Jason as Jason nodded. His eyes were wide with fear as Aline said into the mic before walking off the stage, “I told you so.”

Dean let go of him and grabbed his beer again, taking Aline’s hand in his and leading her out of the bar. “Same goes for the rest of you!” he shouted.

Once outside, he shoved her into the passenger’s side of the Impala and kissed her just like before. When he broke it this time, his eyes were completely black. She was sure her eyes were the same.

“We’re goin’ back to the motel, baby girl,” he growled, his free hand constantly moving up and down her body while he roughly nipped several places on her neck.

“Am I gonna sing for you, Dean-sama?” she questioned, her voice coming out a whimper when he bit down on that sensitive spot on her neck.

He nodded. “My choice, though. But,” he paused when her hands tried to latch onto him, “you don’t get to touch.” Her hands were pushed down to her sides by his demon powers at his words.

“Why?”

“You danced back there. Need I remind you of the rules?”

She rapidly shook her head. Those rules had been etched into her brain. That didn’t mean she didn’t break them every once in a while.

“Why did you dance then?”

Damn, she loved it when Dean was all dominating like this. “I-I l-like that song, sir.”

“It’s one of your favorites, huh, Lin? That why you danced for all those drunks?”

She rapidly nodded. Lin was Dean’s nickname for her in the bedroom. Aline called Dean either “sir” or “Dean-sama” just like that first time.

He pulled her closer to his body, letting her feel his boner at her display. “That’s why you don’t get to touch me at all. Understand, Lin?”

“H-hai, Dean-sama.”

He moved her away from the door and opened it. She climbed in and buckled her seat belt while Dean climbed in the driver’s seat, grinning. It was gonna be a hell of a night.


	2. 'Til I Hear You Sing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The day starts, the day ends_   
>  _Time crawls by_   
>  _Night steals in, pacing the floor_   
>  _The moments creep,  
>  _Yet I can't bear to sleep  
>  _Till I hear you sing___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was debating whether I wanted to post this or not, but, since I haven't posted anything since two days after my birthday, I figured I owed you guys an update or two. This chapter right here is why I added the "Musicals" tag. Not referencing the musical from the 200th episode. Enjoy!
> 
>  _This_ \- Aline singing.  
>  **This** \- the guy singing.   
> **_This_** \- both.
> 
> "Love Never Dies" and it's songs (c) Andrew Lloyd Webber

Dean didn't know where she snuck off to every night, duffle in hand as she ran out the door right at 4:30 PM. He didn't even know why she hummed different songs from musicals as she did different things like researching for a hunt, helping with dinner, or making a pie. Right now, he was sitting on his bed, listening to his music.

“Dean,” she said, catching his attention. She was standing in his doorway. “Can I come in?”

“Sure, Ally. What's up?” he questioned, patting the open space beside him.

Aline walked in and sat down on his bed. “You know that musical I like?”

“Which one?” He chuckled. That girl loved a bunch of musicals. He didn't know about any of them until she came into his life ten years ago. Once they moved into the bunker, she introduced them to her top favorite musicals whenever it was her turn to pick a movie for movie weekend (other times, it was a superhero movie, like The Avengers, or a war movie, like The Great Escape). So far, she made them watch Phantom of the Opera, Love Never Dies, Les Miserables, Sweeney Todd, and a handful of StarKid musicals (after hearing her sing “Twisted”).

“Love Never Dies.”

He nodded. “What about it?”

That was when Aline's cheeks turned red, and she cleared her throat. “Well...the theater group in town is gonna be putting it on, and they were handing out free tickets when I went out to pick up a few things today...”

“Let me guess, you wanna go, huh?”

“I got three tickets: One for you, one for me, and one for Sam.”

“Alright. When is it?”

A huge smile lit up her face, and her eyes lit up with excitement while she jumped up off the bed. “Tonight at 5. You don't have to wear anything fancy, though. Just go with what you have on!” She was so excited as she left his room, she almost bumped into the door frame on the way out, making him laugh.

*~*~*~*SPN*~*~*~*

The place was packed by 4:50. Aline had given the brothers their tickets and ran off to go to the bathroom. At least, that's what she claimed.

That was twenty minutes ago.

“Will you calm down, Dean? I'm sure she's fine,” Sam stated.

“But she's been in there for twenty minutes. _Twenty_ minutes, Sammy,” Dean replied, jiggling his leg nervously. The playbill was clenched in his hand, unopened. Sam, on the other hand, had opened his up and read it through at least five times in the past fifteen minutes.

“She's fine, trust me.”

That was when Dean remembered the fact that Aline and his brother had spent more time together than she'd had with him. “What do you know that I don't?”

His eyes twinkled in amusement. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Don't pull that crap on me. Tell me, or I'll tell the next girl who checks you out that you still wet the bed at night.”

Sam seemed to think things through for a few minutes, even texting someone, before responding with, “She only got two tickets to this show, and she wanted the both of us to see it live.”

That stung. Aline gave the two of them both tickets to see one of her favorite musicals without her. “Then, why'd she come with us if she can't see it live herself?”

Sam grinned. “You'll see.” He then looked at his playbill. “Looks like they're gonna be following the Australian production. You know, the one the three of us watched?”

Dean nodded, clenching his jaw as the first few notes of “'Till I Hear You Sing” began to play. He intently watched what went on on the stage, determined to be able to tell Aline exactly what he thought about seeing it live.

Which was a completely different experience than seeing it on TV through a DVD player.

He was completely sucked into it the moment Madame Giry mentioned Christine's name before her and Meg went into the “Ten Long Years” duet. It only deepened once Christine actually showed up, Dean's jaw dropping at the sight of the girl playing as the now-married Christine de Chagny. He barely recognized her before she spoke her first line of the musical, considering her outfit definitely wasn't something she would wear regularly. Still, she walked like she would wear it daily.

It was Aline.

Her brown hair was curled and styled exactly like Christine's on the recording, and the red outfit made her even more beautiful than before.

Not that she wasn't beautiful in her normal outfit, in his opinion at least.

It was the same with every outfit she wore throughout the musical (admittedly, the blue one she wore for the title song was his favorite one on her).

He couldn't take his eyes off her the whole show, feeling a pang of jealousy whenever the Phantom or Raoul de Chagny (her least favorite character in both POTO and Love Never Dies) showed her affection (which was more the Phantom than Raoul in the first act and the beginning of the second until after “Devil Take the Hindmost”). He clenched his jaw when she comforted her on-stage son Gustave and when she came close to crying.

The way she looked at the man playing as the Phantom was the way he remembered her looking at him in the pit and when they became demons.

It wasn't until her first scene with the Phantom that made his hopes for a chance with her fall hard like a rock. She had fainted at the sight of him as the orchestra played the opening introduction for “Beneath a Moonless Sky.” The man playing as the Phantom (the playbill identified him as Marcus Stark) lifted her up, her arms immediately wrapping around his neck and hands latching behind as he carried her over to the arm chair. He went to stroke her face (the act alone forced Dean to hold himself back from punching the idiot in the face. He was barely holding back as it was), but she woke up gasping, blue eyes narrowing in a glare.

“ _So it was all an empty lie?_  
One final lie to fool us all  
To make your death our story's end  
To put your life beyond recall.”

She got up from her chair and clenched her fists as she continued singing.

“ _How dare you come and claim me now?  
Invade my life, ensnare my voice?”_

That was when the man dressed up in the Phantom's costume replied with,

“ **If you could know the pain I've known,  
Then you would know I had no choice.”**

He could hear the pain and heartbreak he put into his voice, making his fists clench the arm rests.

“ **My Christine...”**

Aline shook her head.

“ _Your Christine._  
I was yours one brief night long ago  
Long ago  
With a man that I no longer know.”

She walked away from him, shaking her head rapidly. Her hands clenched the edge of the piano her on-stage son had played minutes earlier.

“ **Ah, Christine  
** You came and found where I hid  
Don't you deny that you did  
That long ago night.”

He watched her lean her head back on the Phantom's shoulder.

“ **Once there was a night beneath a moonless sky  
Too dark to see a thing, too dark to even try.”**

She pushed herself away from him and sat down on the bench, not looking at him as she answered.

“ _I stole to your side_  
Tormented by my choice  
I couldn't see your face  
Yet trembled at your voice.

_And I touched you.”_

“ **And I felt you.”**

“ _ **And I heard those ravishing refrains.”**_

“ _The music of your pulse.”_

“ **The singing in your veins.”**

“ _And I held you.”_

“ **And I touched you.”**

“ _ **And with every breath and every sigh.”**_

Dean's jaw clenched, realizing exactly what this song was supposed to be implying. Sam later told him it looked like he couldn't tell the difference between real life and fantasy.

“ _I felt no longer scared.”_

“ **I felt no longer shy.”**

“ _ **At last our feelings bared, beneath a moonless sky.”**_

Dean's heart dropped at that point, but he didn't let on that it did.

“ _And blind in the dark, as soul gazed into soul  
I looked into your heart and saw you pure and whole.”_

“ **Cloaked under the night, with nothing to suppress  
** A woman and a man, no more and yet no less.  
And I kissed you.”

“ _And caressed you.”_

“ _ **And the world around us fell away  
We said things in the dark, we never dared to say.”**_

“ **And I caught you.”**

“ _And I kissed you.”_

“ **And I took you.”**

“ _And I begged you.”_

“ __ **With a need too urgent to deny.  
** As nothing mattered then, except for you and I  
Again and then again, beneath a moonless sky.”

The two of them almost kissed, but Marcus moved away, standing up and walking away from her. She quickly stood up as well and speed-walked over to the chair, clenching her fists and her jaw. A sign that always meant she was close to crying.

“ **And when it was done, before the sun could rise,  
** Ashamed of what I was, afraid to see your eyes  
I stood while you slept and whispered a good-bye  
And slipped into the dark beneath a moonless sky.”

She whirled around and looked at Marcus with a broken look on her, letting the tears fall.

“ _And I loved you, yes, I loved you_  
I'd have followed anywhere you led  
I woke to swear my love, and found you gone instead.”

“ **And I loved you.”**

“ _Oh I loved you.”_

“ **And I left you.”**

“ _How I loved you.”_

“ **And I had to both of us knew why.”**

“ _We both knew why.”_

“ _ **And yet I won't regret from now until I die  
The night I can't forget beneath a moonless sky.”**_

“ **And now?”**

She laughed humorlessly. _“How can you talk of now? For us..._ there is no now.”

He hadn't realized he was even crying at the end when Meg shot her and she died in the Phantom's arms until all the actors took their bows. He quickly wiped his eyes before Sam could even see that it happened. They met her over by the Impala, and she was throwing her duffle in the backseat. She was back in her normal outfit and normal hairstyle. His jaw clenched at the memory of seeing her clearly loving the guy that played as the Phantom and climbed into the driver's seat, starting his Baby. He could feel her hurt and confusion at this. It didn't go away when Sam hugged her, congratulating her for her performance. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sam whisper something in her ear and her jaw dropped slightly before she closed it and climbed into the passenger seat at Sam's insistence.

The drive back to the bunker was silent, except for her humming “Love Never Dies.” Once that was finished, she said, “It didn't mean anything. Truth be told, it was kinda weird for both of us.”

“What?” He feigned ignorance.

“The kiss between me and Marcus. I love him like I love Sam. We both were freaked out before and after we got to know each other. Besides, he's married with three kids. But you gotta do what you gotta do to sell it. Plus, I know I've found the Phantom to my Christine.”

Dean noticed that she was blushing once that last statement left her lips, his hopes rising somewhat. “Who would that be?”

She bit her lip, rapidly shaking her head.

Luckily for the both of them, Sam had fallen asleep while she hummed the song.

“Come on! You said it out loud, now you got me all curious. Who's the lucky guy? Tell me, please?” _No matter how much it's gonna hurt me like a bitch,_ he mentally added.

She playfully rolled her eyes. “He's a hunter, believe it or not.”

Dean cocked an eyebrow. “Really? Someone we know?”

“I guess you could say that you know him pretty well. I can't tell him 'cause you've said it yourself: Love between hunters will never work out.” Her voice cracked on that statement.

He gently put his hand on her leg reassuringly. “I'm know for a fact that you'd be able to make it work. So, what's the name of this guy? Just so I know who's ass to kick if he fucks up.”

Aline's mouth opened and closed a few times before she rested her hand on top of his, but she didn't say another word (or, in this case, a name).

He didn't know why, but he decided to carefully study her body language a bit more, just curious to see if that would give away a name. No matter how much it hurt, he wouldn't stand in her way if that someone wasn't—

The answer hit him like a freight train as he watched her. Her eyes refused to linger too long on him, and her blush seemed to darken the more his hand rested on her leg. His mind brought back the memory of seeing her eyes flick black (pre-mark, of course) and narrow while her jaw had clenched whenever he left with some girl from some bar. Each memory of each of her touches from before Hell to now made him see the look of pure love in her eyes (oftentimes mixed with lust when they were in Hell). Even in the often unpleasant memories of the both of them being demons, he could see the love in those Hell and lust-darkened eyes.

She had even trusted and loved him enough to want him to be her first.

_It was him. It was always him._

“All you had to do was tell me, you know,” he said.

Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second before she responded with, “I didn't want to make myself look like an idiot or ruin our friendship. To me, it was better to be your friend than nothing at all.”

“How long?”

“Nine years. It hit me when I saw you in a coma after the accident.”

He nodded. “I remember. I feel the same way about you, too.”

“How long've you known?”

“Same. I got jealous when you started hanging around with Sam more than me, acting the way you two do around each other. I guess I kinda denied it for a while before it finally sunk in, but I thought you and Sammy were together.”

Aline laughed. “As if I'd ever date the moose. Truthfully, I lean more toward squirrels than moose.”

Dean smiled and grabbed her hand, continuing the drive back to the bunker feeling happy and content for the first time in months.


	3. I’m Lost and I’m Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You just couldn’t give up on her, could you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is told in second POV. I know it seems like I wrote a reader insert, but it’s not. Technically. There’s no Y/N or (Name). It’s an experiment I wanted to try. I found the image of the sticky note on Google Images and added the text myself. Enjoy!

She was gone. You didn't know why, nor did you like it, but she was. Left in the middle of the night, leaving behind a note that read, _“Don't look for me.”_

But you did, didn't you?

You couldn't help it. You loved her. Wouldn't admit it to her face for fear she might reject you.

Rejection. A weird feeling. Especially since you always picked up girls easily. Never a problem. They always wanted the same thing.

You were in love with her because she was different than the rest. No matter what happened with those one night stands, you'd always go back to her because she knew what you did.

Because she was in it as deep as you were.

The fact that you found out she had black eyes didn't change that fact. It made you wonder a few things. Things you'd find out about her first time topside.

Course that didn't mean you'd never done it down in the pit. Down there was different.

Neither of you cared about being careful or slow (though sometimes you were, just to hear her beg and whimper your name or “sir”). You were too turned on by something you both knew was wrong, but Hell changes you. For better or worse. You know that.

Back to her.

You saw how she had closed herself off after her first solo case in years. Her normally bright blue eyes had been dark and filled with sadness and anger.

She had said she was fine, but you saw through that lie. The two of you had a connection after all.

Thanks to the mark on your arm and the scar on her chest.

You could feel her anger and sadness through that connection.

You had pointed out the lie, but she hadn't admitted the truth.

A first.

You were usually the one who closed himself off whenever something went wrong on a hunt. She had never been the one to do so. She had always been open with her emotions. Especially with you.

She never held anything back when she talked to you, but it always seemed like there were some secrets she either kept to herself or shared with your brother.

You had shook it off. A mistake you regret now more than ever.

You should have pushed her more. You should have found out what was wrong and tried to fix it together.

As she'd always tell you, _“We're in this together.”_

You should've told her that.

Should've. Could've. Would've.

That's how the old saying goes. You know it better than anyone.

Looking back, you remember seeing how her eyes turned darker with sadness whenever she looked at you when she thought you weren't looking. Her sadness through your connection felt more palpable at those moments.

More should've's come to mind now, huh?

Your brother's helping you look, but you're looking the hardest.

Little to no sleep.

God knows how many cups of coffee to keep you awake as you drive or search for her through her phone's GPS.

You find it weeks later, sitting on a neatly made bed somewhere in North Carolina. A sticky note attached is attached to it, written in her handwriting. You'd know it anywhere.

It's written like she knew you'd be looking for her.

Your brother suggests after a month that you should stop looking.

“If you wanna stop looking for her, be my guest,” you tell him. You know that stopping means giving up on her, and you aren't willing to give up, not by a long shot.

He listens to you and goes back to the bunker.

You feel the first crack two weeks later, but you don't let it show. More follow day by day, hour by hour. Dreams follow that first crack. You see her tearing souls apart while you're standing in a corner. You barely cringe at the screams.

You can't call them dreams. You know they're visions.

You know where she is and what she's doing, and it hurts. More than you let on.

Your brother calls every day, telling you about the latest hunt. You don't tell him about where she is. You lie through your teeth and say you're still searching.

The searching part isn't a lie.

You want to find her before she turns into what you both were. If it comes to that...you're not sure what you're gonna do.

You know the cure, but you know how she's going to be feeling. You suddenly find yourself missing that feeling...

...and it scares you more than anything.

You don't tell your brother what depths you're sinking to to find out how to bring her back. The very words you and she said to him come back to your mind.

“ _I know what you did when you went looking for me, and I know how far you went. So let me ask you, which one of us is really the monster?”_

You shake yourself out of it when you start remembering that. You just want to find her and bring her back home.

Months pass, and you watch her light disappear, darkness replacing it. Twisting her very being into her nightmare.

The day you see each other again you're in a bar in some hick town you don't know the name of, gulping down a shot of vodka. Figures alcohol barely brings out the numbness you need after surviving on that, burgers, and coffee. You ignore the women that come your way to flirt with you, not caring a lick about 'em anymore. There's one girl for you. Figures you find her, you have her as a best friend (later lover) for ten years, and then she leaves you in the dead of night.

You remember when she told you about the dwarves in that fantasy series she likes. They call their soulmates their “one.” She was your one, and you'd stopped having those visions weeks ago. You just talked with your brother an hour ago.

Someone sits down on the stool next to you, but you ignore them, instead choosing to hum that one song she likes. From the fourth movie of that same fantasy series. The prequel trilogy, she'd call it, like it was Darth Vader's backstory.

You hear the person next to you hum along, catching your attention. You turn, and your eyes are wide at the sight next to you.

It's her.

She grins at you. “Finally decided to notice me, huh?” she teases, her eyes glinting in amusement.

You can't say a word no matter how hard you try. Not even her name, but you know you have to check, and she knows too. You can tell.

She blinks, and her eyes are that emotionless ebony, almost making you cringe, but you bite your lip instead.

That makes her grin widen. “Still find that hot, baby? I'm back again.”

You finally find words. “Why?” you ask. It covers what you really want to ask her. _Why did you leave me?_

She blinks again, and those black eyes are gone, replaced by the blue you love so much, but she's looking at the counter, not at you. “That hunt was a shifter. Took your shape and was killing people. Don't know how it knew what you looked like. Anyway, he threw the full charm on me, like you do with all the girls we run into. I fell for it, and he dropped reality on me like a ton of bricks.”

“What's that even mean?”

Now she looks at you, ignoring your question. “Then I had to kill him while he looked like you. Hardest thing I ever had to do. Then, I come back and see you, asking me if I'm alright, and it hurt me. Thinking you liked me like that.” Her eyes harden. “But we both know that you don't. We're just fuck-buddies until we get rid of the mark. Stress relief. Friends with benefits. Whatever you wanna call it.” She leans toward you, her hand resting on your arm. “When we were demons, however, you wouldn't let anyone else touch me but you.” Her hand moves to the mark, making your jaw clench but your whole body relax at the same time. “I always wondered what the difference between now and then was. The shifter told me that difference.”

You look her right in the eyes and say, “There is no difference. What we've got...I don't wanna call it friends with benefits if you don't want to. If this is friends with benefits, I'd hate to see what an actual relationship between us would be like.” You clear your throat. “Not that I wouldn't be willing to try that. Just let us fix you, Ally. Please.”

Her grin changes into a smirk as her eyes flick again. “What was it we said again when Sammy offered that option? I like the disease.” She moves her mouth to your ear. “I want you to get it, too.”

*~*~*~*SPN*~*~*~*

You wake up with a start, sweat running down your forehead. Looking around, you find yourself back in your room in the bunker. You hear a familiar voice call your name, a hand resting on your forearm.

“Another nightmare?” she asks.

You look over at her. She's wearing nothing but one of your Zeppelin t-shirts and underwear, and her brown hair (which had been put in a braid before the two of you fell asleep) is messed up from sleep. Her blue eyes show no sign of the fact she was asleep, and there's no trace of the black there besides her expanded pupils.

You nod and let her pull you into her arms, thankful you don't have to explain what happened. The nightmare was always the same. One of you would somehow turn back into a demon.

The both of you had these nightmares and they caused either one or both of you to wake up crying. The two of you were the only ones able to calm each other down, which was why she had moved into your room in the first place.

Your memory foam bed was big enough for two anyway.

The cause of these nightmares?

Neither of you didn't have a clue, but you both had an idea.

The Book of the Damned.

You always cursed the fact that the book had to be nearby (Sam was always reading it), no matter if it helped get rid of the curse on your arm or not.

You hear the familiar tones of “Hey Jude” as she gently lays the two of you back down. You wrap your arms around her, and she nuzzles into the comfort of your embrace (she'd never admit to anyone that she's a cuddler. Only to you, and you feel special in that regard).

You fall back to sleep with a smile on your face, those nightmares held at bay for the rest of the night.


	4. The Prisoner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Spoilers for "Dark Dynasty" & "The Prisoner."_ Aline reacts to Charlie's death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based on the extended promo for "The Prisoners." I'd say enjoy, but...you'll see.

Aline watched Dean toss an assortment of weapons into the car. He hadn't said a word since they burned Charlie's body. Hell, she hadn't even said a word, clenching her jaw throughout the whole process.

It was hard to believe she was actually gone for good, no coming back.

At first, Aline was sad, upset even at the sight of Charlie's body. Charlie was one of her best friends, the one who dragged her out of the Bunker for a full day of pampering and clothes shopping. Aline always pretended to be angry with the redhead about it, but everyone (including Cas) knew that she looked forward to the trips.

That sadness turned to anger.

Aline was pissed.

The room she used to sleep in alone became a complete wreck once the three of them got back after finding her body. Sam had tried to calm her down, but that only earned him scratches and punches which would no doubt leave bruises later and hurt like hell in the morning.

Dean had been the successful one, her body immediately relaxing into his.

Her anger didn't dissipate, though, not in the slightest. She _knew_ what would calm it down.

Half of her was afraid of it. The other half accepted it.

The combination of her anger and Dean's anger was dangerous, especially when their marks were involved. Their marks amplified it to an almost inhuman level. No one else knew just how volatile and violent they could be or how far they could go. Not even Cas or Crowley.

But Aline and Dean knew.

They both learned in Hell and topside on hunts.

Dean learned in Purgatory.

Aline learned when she tortured monsters post-apocalypse and when Dean and Cas were in Purgatory.

They both learned when they were demons.

The slam of Baby's trunk snapped her out of her reverie. Dean looked right at her, a silent question in his eyes.

_Are you coming with me?_

Just before she could answer, the door to the garage opened. She didn't even have to look to see that it was Sam.

It didn't hit her until that point that she didn't care that Sam was hurt by her own hands.

Before the younger brother could say a single word, Aline climbed into the car, essentially giving Dean her answer. Dean climbed in as well, shutting the door behind him before driving off to find the Stynes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I am working on the next chapter of "Sun Rise."_ I just saw the extended promo for "The Prisoner" on Tumblr and I got inspiration for this fic. I also accidentally deleted my Tumblr accounts (my main one was 15 followers away from 1000). I'm rebuilding both blogs from the ground up. Which means, every single fic I have on here is going to be reposted on my main account (bowties-scarves-and-impalas) in order. I'm posting my SPN fics first, though.


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